Intessi?
by screamingwindchime
Summary: Why Machiavelli will never, ever have sex with anyone but La Volpe. PWP!


"Harder," growled Machiavelli lowly, gruff and needy. His voice had turned into a husky drawl, throat absolutely dry from panting. He shouted as he was pressed against his office wall, papers strewn amongst articles of clothing all over the place, as he was getting fucked into oblivion and back. "Fuck me harder!"

Who was La Volpe to refuse? "Ah, Niccolo," he moaned into his ear, nibbling at the edge, then flicking his tongue against the hollow place beneath.

"You ask for so much!" Niccolo turned his head, ready to chastise him on how it was absolutely not an impossible demand, when Volpe thrusted in, each piston of his hips just deep and fast as he placed his lips over Niccolo's, and Niccolo was absolutely caught off guard, hot little cries emerging from his throat. Volpe's hand trailed down his body, leaving hundreds of searing little daggers to score his skin, then gripped his hardened cock.

Niccolo let out a startled cry, then moaned impatiently. "Hnngh, Volpe…." Volpe teased Niccolo's slick tip with one hand, going in circles by the slit, the other gently teasing a rock hard nipple, pinching and rubbing until the younger Machiavelli was just writhing and arching against him. When Volpe stroked the entire length of Niccolo's arousal, he looked as if he were ready to come then and there, so Volpe teasingly slowed down and lightened his grip. Instead he traced languid circles at he slit of his marble-hard cock, to which Niccolo responded with eager cries for more.

"Volpe," pled Niccolo brokenly, bucking his hips into Volpe's thrusts.

"Si, tesoro?" said Volpe, straight and smooth, but still lust-laden.

"Ah," Niccolo struggled to find words; Volpe's hands were /everywhere/ at once. He was so hard it was painful, and the way Volpe's strokes walked the line of pleasure and hellfire wasn't really helping. But what he did know-and Volpe, too, probably, from all the frantic, hitched sounds escaping the younger's mouth-was that he was damn near coming.

"Don't stop... Don't," sputtered Niccolo, and Volpe complied, if only increasing to a furious tempo.

For La Volpe, nothing was more gratifying than the way that Niccolo begged him, called his name. Each push into him led to a brand new cry, and brand new motivation to do it again.

And again.

And again, until he knew they both were damn well near coming.

For Niccolo, heat pooled at the base of his spine, blood rushed everywhere and he was hot and sweaty and his hard work and papers were everywhere-but in that moment he didn't care. With a final, rough twist Niccolo came, spurting jet after jet of hot, white, sticky seed. He was so caught up in his own peak that he almost didn't notice Volpe coming inside of him-almost. Volpe came And he came hard, muffling his screams of pleasure with a bite to Niccolo's shoulder. Niccolo silently swore but as warmth dripped down the cleft of his ass to his thighs, and as he tried to keep his knees from buckling under the intense pleasure that rocked through him in waves, he could do nothing but desire a bedchamber on a secluded island where all they could do was fuck the days away like this. While he slowly regained his composure, he clawed and grasped at the wall like it was the only tether keeping him on the earth as La Volpe pulled out, suddenly feeling empty.

"Volpe," he said, looking over his shoulder, where Volpe lightly sucked on the skin he bit while he climaxed. He traced circles with his tongue, and it was the pleasure and pain all over again for Niccolo. He noticed that a hand had snaked up to his face, grabbing at his hair, pulling backward and down to face Volpe's violet eyes. Volpe continued a trail of kisses and play bites along Niccolo's neck, stopping when he reached the shell of his ear.

"That," breathed Volpe into Machiavelli's ear, tongue flicking at the hollow place beneath. "is why you will never have sex with Cesare Borgia, or anyone besides me, ever again. Intessi?"

Niccolo could only nod.

OHMYGOD I can't believe I just wrote that on my little sister's iPod touch. Whaddya think? :D


End file.
